A curious expanation
by sharitenshi
Summary: When we watch Sherlock on BBC we hear a brief mention about Sherlock's and Mycroft's mother, but what about their father? This is a story that brings Sherlock's father into the picture and their not so good relationship together. Hopefully later on in the story an explanation for why Sherlock is the way he is will present itself, not to mention an unexpected guest at 221B.


Sherlock fan fic

-I wonder why… heh, the ratio these words cross my mind compared to the normal human being is incomprehensible. Normal… - A look of disgust crosses Sherlock's face.

-I wonder why everyone is confounded by my hate for sentiment. Can they not see it? I've explained it again and again; so many times it's become annoying. Sentiment for someone like me…-

Sherlock shakes his head, sighing and banishing the thoughts before the unpleasant memories begin to pour into his mind. As Sherlock begins the process of opening the door he reflects on several experiments and absently tries to figure out why he hasn't deleted those memories long ago.

- Because they taught me a lesson. - As Sherlock's hand removes itself from his pocket he realizes it was empty and he had forgotten his keys again. This typically isn't a problem but john had to leave for a date from the crime scene and hadn't accompanied him home.

An unbidden flash of angers courses through Sherlock, serving only to annoy him further. This anger was totally uncalled for and proved to a defiant Sherlock that he was falling to his greatest enemy, sentiment. No one seemed to understand this either. To everyone around him Moriarty seemed to be the greatest threat to his safety however, this was far from the case.

As Sherlock began to figure out the most convenient way inside the feeling of darkness surrounded him, it was heavy and put a wall between him and the world. Sherlock scowls softly as he pushes the loneliness away. He didn't mind the wall so much; however it would usually reduce his ability to notice details. Noticing details was what he was best at and was a key component of his deductions, which was something he sorely needed right now. He needed them not only to get into the house but to separate himself from everyone else, to make him special and to make it to where they couldn't hurt him anymore. If he could see it coming he could usually brace for it or cut them off. After a few moments Sherlock begins to prepare for the climb to the second story window when he hears someone clear their throat. Sherlock spins around, ready to defend himself when he finds…. Mycroft.

"Forget your keys little brother? " Sherlock immediately scoffed, he hated that Mycroft would call him that, but by god he wasn't going to show it,

"Of course not Mycroft, I simply wanted to test the security, though I'm sure you would know." Sherlock could hear his deep baritone voice rumbling, being careful to monitor his tones so that Mycroft had no clue how his little jab annoyed Sherlock to no end. Mycroft chuckled as he reached in his pocket and pulled out his key for 221B Baker ST, which neither Sherlock nor john had given him.

"all you had to do was ask, I would've told you that it's fairly easy to get in, with the right equipment of course." Mycroft smugly held the door open for Sherlock. Sherlock hardly waited before racing up the stairs, his long legs helping to complete the illusion of flight. Sherlock's body was bursting with energy as he entered his home, a coat falling here, any papers he was holding scattering there. Mycroft slowly follows every move slow and deliberate. The novelty of Mycroft's and Sherlock's almost polar opposite personalities had worn off long ago and now was simply a part of life. However Mycroft's presence was never spontaneous nor without purpose, so obviously he was here for a reason. A reason that seemed to irritate him if his nervous habit of picking things up and putting them down again was any indication.

"Why're you here Mycroft? If you're here you're here for a reason what is it?" Sherlock's voice had that half demanding inquiring tone it always had with a slight hint of boredom.

Mycroft sighed and straightened his coat," Sherlock, this may come as a shock to you but I am your brother and I DO care. When you were young it was obvious you were going to be extremely …different. Even more so than myself and at this time father began searching… now don't be like that Sherlock-"at the mention of the word "father" Sherlock froze. All that vibrant energy and constant movement just gone.


End file.
